Inseparable
by Liberty Love and Roses
Summary: But a long time isn't synonymous to forever— Blue (female) x Green (male). Non-linear.


**New story! To make this clear, the plot is kind of... ambiguous. You can assume whatever happened before the events here. Also, it doesn't follow the manga.**

 **And yes, Blue (female) and Green (male) are slightly out of character, but... oooh weeeeeeeell. And they are also... childhood friends in this, I guess?**

 **This is also non-linear and one of my older projects from three years ago that I found (like one of my other fanfics, The Storms Named After Us, which you should totally read by the way *wink wink*).** **This was also a good way to kick out my writer's block; by re-editing an older story! I recommend doing this to anyone who is in need of inspiration.**

 **Anyways... I hope you enjoy it, and please drop a review!**

* * *

... _Inseparable_...

* * *

(1)

They are young, kicking puddles and kicking puddles until the water saturates their bones through their skins.

Their hands are entwined, small, small fingers weaved into smaller fingers until they are inseparable, and by a puddle, they watch as their ribbons of blood knot together like lovers; the water is its catalyst.

They are now reassured, as they have a small part of each other running through their veins.

(Inseparable.)

...

(36)

"I will always remember you," he promises, almost stoic, and her eyes drift from his machete-carved cheekbones to his eyes of electric green.

"Always is an awfully long time," she drawls, her chin lazily resting on her palm as her lips sing requiems for her wine.

"So it is."

"But," she continues, "I will never forget you either."

Sultry smirks and a voice like honey, he whispers, "Never is also an awfully long time."

She pauses for a wistful moment before saying, with his smile on her lips, "So it is."

...

(18)

It is a thought that plays her mind too often, but his intellect is so damn sexy.

It gives him an air of mystery, and she can't dismiss the thrill of not knowing, of wanting to know.

Except she does know.

But she wants to know more. She wants to know to the extent he knows, like how he can read her body like Braille, and how he knows that her world can't revolve without him- everything he doesn't let her find out.

It is a thought that plays her mind too often, but she probably loves him more than he can ever love over seven lifetimes (but he only believes in one anyways), and even if he could love infinitely, he would leave it all to waste, and she would be left yearning, expecting, breaking—

—not that she isn't already.

...

(5)

At one point, they were just childhood friends with too many insecurities; she wanted to be loved, to be cherished, to be remembered (what her parents couldn't give her).

He wanted strength, intellect and to not be forgotten (what the world couldn't give him).

They promised, when they were still embarrassingly juvenile, that they'd give each other what they want if they could.

So she never forgot him and he always remembered her.

It was silly, almost, because whilst she invested herself in never forgetting him, she fell in love in the process.

And he gave her the "love" she wanted for so long, yet—

—it wasn't enough.

...

(11)

She is kissing another boy's lips.

Her blue eyes are open, watching his own of chatoyant gold flicker and close as their tongues tangle like drunk lovers, as her fingers tug at his dark hair.

When they break apart, she asks teasingly, "Do you love me?"

Of course he replies, "Yes," but she knows that he has liars for lips and they are only doing what they are best at.

The next time she sees him, he is with another girl with navy hair gathered in pigtails and a visage of lucid annoyance and brief affection that he reciprocates.

With an insouciant shrug, she distances herself away from the pair.

She expected this to happen anyways.

...

(55)

 _Promises be damned._

...

(50)

When they see the red eyes of the world's hero through the screen of the television, she feels his fingers interweaved with hers tighten until his nails draw blood from her skin.

She doesn't bother to complain, instead bringing her other hand to his cheek and tilting his head until his green eyes meet hers.

"Even if the world doesn't acknowledge what you did," she starts, slowly, tentatively, trying to dissipate the rage clouding his eyes, "I do, and I promise I'll never forget."

(Inseparable—)

She doesn't know when it happens, but he isn't beside her anymore.

(— and yet, their ties crumble and she collapses.)

All she can remember are his final words, as the door teeters and invites in the rain:

" _You're not enough anymore_."

...

(38)

When he kisses her, she hates (loves) it.

She is meant to be the mistake every boy made, but the roles have reversed and she is now the one regretting because—

she is never serious, but this time she is.

And he is always serious, but this time he isn't.

Blue is meant to be the mistake every boy made, the kind they'd love regretting. When she sighs into Green's lips, she doesn't notice that his eyes flicker open and that he stops kissing her back.

* * *

 **And that is all.**

 **Please review!**

~Adieu!

X's and O's,

Liberty


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